


Odin's Angels

by Socketwrench



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post Avengers: Age of Ultron, F/F, F/M, Gen, Natasha & Heimdall bromance, Natasha-centric, Yes I Said Niel deGrasse Tyson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 08:37:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4699409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Socketwrench/pseuds/Socketwrench
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Infinity Stones on the loose and Thanos' influence being felt as far away as Earth, Natasha Romanov is, understandably, a little out of her depth. But when she, a young enhanced SHIELD agent and a goddess of a warrior are recruited as a highly specialized task force for the All-Father, they soon realize they can help turn the tables.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Looking for an Angel

In Stockholm at 2100 on a Friday night, Natasha’s job couldn’t be any simpler. Keep Dr. Foster, Dr. Selvig and that intern of theirs from getting shot or abducted during the gala. She doubted anyone would try something. Thor was there doing his proud boyfriend thing, boasting about Jane with that big doofus grin of his. All the entrances were covered, the guest list had been checked four times with the SHIELD database, facial recognition wasn’t pinging anything and everything seemed to be going swimmingly.

So why the hell couldn’t Natasha sit still? She checked in with her assets again, a bunch of bright-eyed kids from Coulson’s little daycare. Playground. Whatever. Two on the front entrance, one at the back, two covering the upstairs gallery and one near the kitchen. Three more, including two enhanced were mingling on the floor with her, and each of them reported all quiet. She walked the floor again to check on her charges, making every effort to look like a distinguished guest. Thor was telling a story to some people who were either too polite or too scared to not listen. He’d left the hammer at an hors d’oeuvre table where people were surreptitiously trying to lift it every now and then. Dr. Foster was being swamped by physicists. Strangely, Jane looked very much in her element. She was normally pretty awkward, Natasha had noticed, so it was weird seeing her converse comfortably with an entire crowd of people. Dr. Selvig was hotly debating some theory with another scientist, an old colleague probably. Given how his arms were flailing Natasha doubted he’d be done any time soon.

And then there was Darcy. Natasha didn’t know much about her, just that she was an intern who got roped into the craziness at Puento Antiguo and decided to stay for some reason. At the moment, she was helping herself to the open bar. Her nervousness satisfied for now, Natasha decided to play nice for a bit and sauntered over to her.

“See anything good?” she asked. Darcy looked up from behind the bar and did a double-take when she realized who she was talking to.

“Uh… yeah, a couple of things. I think. Dunno what most of it is, the labels are in Swedish.”

“Let me see.” Darcy handed her a bottle. “This one’s vodka.”

“Nice. I’ll take that.”

“Oh, not that one, it’s a mixer. Try… that one. Good for sipping,” Natasha said, pointing out a bottle in a clear freezer on the back wall. Darcy smiled brightly and turned to grab it. Natasha couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thanks,” said Darcy. “I probably shouldn’t be surprised you speak Swedish.”

“It’s not hard, it’s just drunk German. Also, the Swedish word for vodka is vodka. It’s right on the label.”

Darcy laughed a little. “Well clearly I’m an idiot,” she said, pouring a tall, chilled shot glass for herself. “Want some?”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

Darcy poured another glass and handed it to Natasha.

“What are we drinking to?” Natasha asked.

“Jane, duh. This whole shindig is for her. So, uh, to Jane.”

“ _Будем._ ”

“What.”

“Hear hear, basically.”

“Got it.”

They clinked gently and took a sip. Well, Natasha did. Darcy pounded hers.

“Guh! What _is_ this?” she managed through a few coughs.

Natasha just kept smirking. “I told you, it's sipping vodka. 158-proof sipping vodka,” she said as she took another, very small sip.

“Everything tastes like burning,” Darcy choked out.

This wasn't so bad, Natasha found herself thinking. It was nice getting away from training the new team for a bit, even if she was growing fond of them. With world crises at a minimum right now, she'd practically jumped at the chance to dress up and have a night (sort of) off. Getting to catch up with Thor was a nice bonus too. He was a welcome change of pace from James Awful-Stories Rhodes and Steve Why-Does-Everyone-Laugh-When-I-Ask-Them-To-Call-Me-Mr. Rodgers. She certainly didn't mind her current company either, and chatted amiably with Darcy for a few minutes before checking in with her team again.

“Upstairs all clear.”

“Kitchen clear.”

“Rear exit clear.”

“Front door clear.”

“Floor zone one clear.”

“Floor zone two... stand by.”

Natasha snapped into security mode. She set her drink down, the effects vaporizing. Darcy seemed to notice the change and stopped telling an admittedly good story about a pet store. Floor two... that was Johnson, one of the enhanced. A real sharp one if Coulson was to be believed. She was on the north side of the hall, near the staircase that would serve as the impromptu stage for the presentation later. Natasha stood up and gave Darcy an apologetic look.

“Go, go,” Darcy said, “Do the superhero thing. Lemme know if I need to take cover or something.”

“I think you'll know. If there's trouble just drop down behind the bar.”

“Wait, really?”

“Thanks for the drink, Lewis,” Natasha said with a wink, and turned to walk the floor. She keyed her radio and scanned the crowd.

“Floor two, report.”

“Bald head, red tie. I recognize him from one of the SHIELD files. Possible Hydra ties.”

“Copy that. Hub, why didn't facial recog ping him?”

The back-end, the dopes running cameras and asset placement were from a private security company. They didn't respond. Natasha had a very bad feeling about this.

“Okay Floor one, Lincoln, do you have eyes on?”

“Ah, yeah.”

“See if you can talk him outside. If he spooks, zap him and we'll get the principals out of here.”

“Got it.”

“Johnson, keep looking for anything facial didn't pick up.”

“Copy that.”

“Front door, lock it down. If you see anything that looks like a grab van get the plate number and tell them to get lost.”

“Copy.”

“Kitchen door, keep an eye on Intern. I'm going to talk to Hammer. Hub, respond.”

Nothing. Shit.

Natasha calmly walked up to Thor, who was engrossed in what was apparently a crash course in Midgardian astrophysics delivered by a charismatic, mustachioed scientist.

“Hey big fella,” she said disarmingly. “Enjoying your night?”

“Natasha! Dr. Tyson was just-”

“That's great, can I borrow you for a minute?”

“Uh-”

She pulled him aside and kept smiling like she was just enjoying a night with an old friend. Tapping her earpiece, she nodded at him in the universal spy way of saying “we got trouble.” Thor just raised an eyebrow. Natasha jerked her head toward the table that Mjolnir sat on, a surprisingly attractive centerpiece to a table full of food. Thor looked at it and chuckled, then looked back at her, still baffled. Natasha looked at Jane, then back to him, then motioned subtly towards the front door. Thor made an “er” kind of noise and shrugged, shaking his head. Natasha sighed.

“There's a Hydra agent here. There might be more. Grab your cudgel, you might need to get Jane out of here,” she said.

“Ah. Why not simply say so?”

Natasha looked around. She hadn't meant to say it that loudly but Thor was a little dense, apparently. She immediately wished she hadn't. Of the maybe ten people within earshot, four were looking at her with determined expressions and reaching into their jackets. SHIT.

“That's why. CLEAR THE BUILDING!” Natasha shouted.

“PLAN B!” shouted one of the men.

“HAIL HYDRA!” shouted more than a dozen more. _**SHIT.**_

Before the four in front of her had finished shouting, Natasha drew her pistols and put three rounds each into two of their chests. All hell broke loose. Scientists and their dates scattered every which way, her SHIELD assets drew their weapons and began herding civilians out as fast as they could, and a very familiar ringing-humming sound signaled that some people were about to get clobbered by the big guy to her right. The two agents in front of her that she hadn't shot finished drawing their weapons, only to get blindsided by the flying hammer. A flash of blue light erupted towards the staircase. Lincoln must have taken down Red Tie. The two upstairs agents and Lincoln had that area cleared.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Thor grab Jane and take off _through_ the stone ceiling. One safe, two to go. Two Hydra agents on her left got hurled into a wall by Johnson's shockwaves, but another was taking aim behind her. Natasha dispatched him with two in the skull and grabbed some cover behind some stone pillars. Johnson joined her at an adjacent pillar and pulled her firearm from a garter holster.

“I've got Selvig,” Johnson said. “I saw him duck into the coat room.”

“Got it,” Natasha said. She peeked out from behind her cover and dropped another agent. “I'll cover you.”

She stepped out and sprayed a few bullets towards the opposite wall of pillars where the remaining Hydra agents were taking cover. Johnson bolted to the coat room and keyed her radio moments later.

“Selvig's clear.”

“Copy,” Natasha said, slipping back behind cover. Only Lewis left. She dropped her magazines out, and was about to reload when an agent she hadn't seen leapt out from behind a doorway, effectively flanking her. He leveled a submachine gun at her and was about to pull the trigger when he was tackled from behind by... someone. Not one of theirs. The man, who Natasha suddenly recognized as the scientist Thor was speaking to earlier, expertly locked up the agent in some form of wrestling hold and disarmed him.

“I'll take this one. Go!” he said.

Natasha nodded. She finished reloading and sprinted from behind her cover to the bar. The hall was clear of civilians, but nearly all her assets were outside trying to get them to local authorities for protection. If she knew Thor, he'd be back inbound any second, so all she had to do was get to Lewis and hold out. She vaulted over the bar, followed by some scattered fire from the Hydra goons. Sure enough, Lewis was huddled on the ground. Natasha almost burst out laughing when she saw Darcy was protecting the bottle of vodka like it was a baby.

“Wow,” Natasha said over the gunfire. “You really like that stuff.”

“Are you SERIOUS?” Darcy wailed. “You're joking NOW?”

Natasha smirked. “Give it a second,” she said.

As if on cue, Thor came barreling back through the ceiling. Natasha hazarded a peek over the bar and saw six Hydra soldiers getting bashed through walls, thrown into the air, electrocuted and a few more variations of “decimated.” She almost felt sorry for them. One of them took a backhanded swing from the hammer and flew a good forty feet towards them. He crashed into the back liquor cabinet and crumpled on the ground near them and all at once, it was quiet. Natasha waited a beat, then stood up and brushed the glass and dirt off her dress.

“Well that could've gone better. Nice backhand,” she said nonchalantly.

“Thanks,” said Thor, smiling like an idiot. “It's all in the shoulder.”

Natasha looked around. For a moment she doubted any of the Hydra goons made it out alive, before remembering the scientist.

“Dr. Tyson?” she called. He poked his head out from one of the pillars she'd used for cover earlier. “You're all clear. Is that guy still breathing?”

“Yup. Sleeper hold, works every time,” he said. Despite his bravado and dark complexion, he looked a little pale.

“Nice work,” Natasha said, absolutely meaning it. Besides the guy that he took down, there wouldn't be any injured. If Hydra still operated the same way, anyone who was compromised would've already taken their cyanide. She keyed her radio and helped Darcy up, still clutching the vodka. “Johnson, we're all clear in here. Fourteen for the morgue, one for the Fridge.”

“Copy that,” came the response. “Local police are handling civilians out here, we've got Coulson inbound to debrief them.” She cut the radio as she and two other agents walked back into the hall.

“Uh... Agent Romanov?” said Darcy.

“One sec. Johnson, double-time the prisoner pickup, we don't want him popping a kill pill. And let's arrange some protection for Dr. Tyson.”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Agent Romanov?” repeated Darcy, urgently tugging the back of Natasha's dress.

“Wha-”

“LOOK OUT!” Darcy shouted as she tackled Natasha. She barely had time to register the twisted smile on the fallen Hydra agent's face before the explosion hit.

Through the ringing in her ears, her rapidly dwindling vision and a throbbing pain somewhere in her leg, Natasha could kind of make out the word “reinforcements” in her ear. She snapped awake and quickly realized that there was now more gunfire and hammer-swinging happening on the other side of the bar. She also quickly realized that Darcy and her incredibly low-cut neckline was draped on top of her. Darcy was barely breathing.

Natasha heaved herself into a crouch and she saw the splattered remains of the Hydra suicide grenadier. She saw the burns on Darcy's back and the bruises rapidly forming. She saw Thor poke his head over the bar, completely ignoring the bullets pinging off his armor.

“We'll take care of this, just get her outside!” he said. Then, oddly, he turned his head to the ceiling and said “Take them to the healing room!”

Natasha barely understood, but she was running solely on adrenaline at this point. She scooped up Darcy and shouldered open the kitchen door, ignoring her leg. She weaved through the ovens and counters and out the back door, where she stopped and stared at the girl in her arms. What the hell was that? Why take a blast for her? Why was she out back when the ambulances were out front?

Through the fog of adrenaline, Natasha sensed something and looked up. In the space it took her to blink, a rainbow-colored light lanced out of the sky and swallowed the two of them whole.

 


	2. An Angel's Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a ride on the Bifrost, Natasha finds there's more to the new Hydra than meets the eye. Hers, or anyone else's.

It was like nothing Natasha had ever experienced. An awesome rush of color and wind and sound left her sweat and tears streaked across her face as if she’d jumped out of a plane. She almost forgot about the blinding pain in her leg and the limp form she carried bridal-style through the maelstrom

And then they landed. The world snapped into place around her, but it was unlike any place she’d seen. She would have taken in the detail, had she not landed on the leg with a shrapnel wound. She screamed in pain and nearly dropped her precious cargo.

“Help her!” she shouted to nobody in particular. There had to be someone here, anybody. Her vision swam and she saw two blurry figures gently pick up and carry the unconscious Darcy to something like a gurney. It was hovering somehow and drawn by… a horse? Really?

“Fly!” commanded one of the figures, the one tending the horse. To her mild disappointment, it didn’t. It just ran. Fast. Good. Thoughts were getting harder. The adrenaline was wearing off. Stay awake.

“Stay awake, Red One,” said a deep voice. She couldn’t see its owner. “You’ve been wounded.” Natasha blinked and shook her head. Keep moving. Focus on the pain and let it pass through you. Figure to the left. Tall, armored. Armed? Yes. Sword. Big. Really big. _заебись_ , that’s a big sword.

“S-stay back,” she said weakly.

“I mean you no harm,” the figure said. His voice was at once soothing and commanding. “You’ve done a great service for a dear friend and I thank you. Now let me help.”

She tried to stand again on her good leg and collapsed ungracefully. A hand, impossibly strong, took a gentle hold of her shoulder and turned her over. She felt herself sliding into blackness as he picked her up like she weighed nothing. And then there was nothing.

For a time. Then there was a shrapnel wound that she’d been quite happy to forget about for a while, thank you very much. For a split second, that’s all the world was, and then her leg felt… warmth? Happiness? Could a leg even feel happy? If it could, this is definitely what happy legs feel like. It was the opposite of pain, and it left Natasha smiling before she even thought about where she was. Suddenly remembering that she’d passed out in the presence of a potential hostile, she snapped her eyes open and drew her pistols.

The man was staring right at her, as if he’d known exactly what she was thinking. The first thing Natasha noticed was his eyes. They were bright amber and his gaze seemed to penetrate through her skull and straight into her innermost thoughts. The second thing she noticed was that he was unarmed, the gargantuan sword she’d seen earlier lay a few feet behind him on the ground. Not a great option if they got in a scrap. It was about as long as, well, her. The third thing she noticed was that he was smiling warmly and holding a strange device near the wound on her leg. It emitted a soft golden light and it looked like her skin was knitting itself back together where the light touched it. So, she finally decided, probably not a hostile. She put her guns down and the stranger raised an eyebrow at her weapons.

“Have no fear,” he said. “I’ll be done in a moment, then we may speak.”

“Where’s Darcy?”

“Being cared for, and well. I said we may speak in a moment, Red One.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said flatly. He looked at her, curious.

“Does it not fit?” he asked. He made one last sweep with the healing device before switching it off. The happy feeling was gone, but so was the pain. That was nice, at least. The stranger put the device aside and sat on a bench near the one she lay on. Natasha noticed for the first time that she was still in the room they’d arrived in. She sat up on the bench and looked across at the man, whom she suspected knew a lot more about her than she’d like. Her leg didn’t even twitch. She felt the skin where a new scar showed through her torn stocking, marveling at the device's effects.

“Red has followed you for many years, has it not?” he continued. “’Tis the color of the land where you were born, the place you were trained, your… how did you put it? Your ledger.”

Natasha’s eyes widened. “Who the hell are you?”

The man chuckled. “I am called Heimdall. And you are-“

“On Asgard,” she finished. Her eyes widened further as she realized the gravity of what that meant. Suck it, Yuri Gagarin.

“Indeed you are. Welcome.”

“Thanks,” she said, somewhat dazed. She was still processing the fact that she was the third human in written history to visit. “How did I get here, exactly?” Heimdall motioned toward a pedestal in the center of the room.

“I brought you here, along with young Darcy. You were wounded and in need of aid, and any friend of Thor is a friend of my people.”

“We had medical on the way.”

“Your healers would not have been able to help her in time. Thor gave me an order to help and I'm glad of it. In truth,” he said as he stood, "I likely would have helped you regardless." He turned from her and retrieved his sword. Natasha tensed, but instead of returning to the bench, he placed the sword in the pedestal he'd pointed out. A loud _THUNK_ resounded through the chamber and the walls began turning like cogs, slowly pointing the transparent ceiling towards the horizon. While the room shifted, Heimdall walked away from the sword and spoke.

“‘Twas you who foiled Loki’s invasion of Midgard, was it not?”

“I had help.”

“Your modesty becomes you. But if not for you, the battle would have been lost.”

“I guess.”

“You needn’t. I saw what happened.”

“Yeah, about that. How? How do you know so much?”

“I see all that happens in each of the nine realms, Midgard included.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Everything. ‘Tis rare for anyone to escape my gaze.”

“Huh.”

“Something amuses you?”

“No, you just remind me of someone. Keeps tabs on everything, you know? _And_ he doesn’t even need both eyes.”

“I know of whom you speak." Heimdall smiled again. "You flatter me.”

“Now who’s being modest?” Natasha managed a smile in return. “Thank you, really,” she said after a moment. “I wasn’t expecting that to go sideways.”

“No?”

“No, I wasn't.”

“Why not?”

“Because... I had the best intel, one of the best teams out there to I.D. suspects _and_ Thor in the building. No better deterrent than him. They took out our Hub without tipping us off and got fifteen, _fifteen_ people past our door guys.”

Heimdall scratched his beard. “Perhaps you've missed something, Red One.”

“Well, you're the all-peeping-Tom, you tell me.”

“This threat you face now, this Hydra, is unlike its predecessor. They have a leader who holds a great hatred for your friends and will stop at nothing to exact his revenge. I fear he has called upon forces far beyond that which you've prepared for.”

“Well I know about Grant Ward,” Natasha said. “He's a dick.”

“That he is, but he is a dick who has gathered much support from your enemies and an unknown power which makes him far deadlier than you know."

Natasha choked back a laugh at hearing someone who spoke like... well, an Asgardian call someone a dick. Heimdall gave her a "really?" kind of look. In fairness, that was a little juvenile. He'd just told her that one of the biggest threats to global stability had somehow made Asgard nervous.

"Sorry. What do you mean an unknown power?"

"Just that. I know not how, but he and his cohorts have impeded my vision. I have experienced this before, but only by the works of a master of magic. This time it is different, more absolute."

"He's blocking you? Wouldn't he have to know about you first?"

"Precisely. I fear an enemy of Asgard is at work here and it behooves both of us to investigate." 

"Hm," Natasha said. She thought for a moment. "When you were blocked before, who was responsible?"

"'Twas Loki's doing. He conspired with the other Jotun to place himself on the throne. Eventually his plan was foiled by Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three."

"Well that explains a lot."

"Indeed. His folly with the Chitauri was a direct result."

"Do you think he could be involved here?"

Heimdall sighed. "Loki has fallen. He died defending Asgard some years ago. Even so, this is a different method of impediment. Loki merely obfuscated my vision, this Ward somehow vanishes entirely. I sense there is no magic at work here, perhaps it is artifice."

Natasha took a moment to think again "Who else has Asgard's level of technology?"

"None that I have seen. Do you suspect someone?"

"Well I don't know about aliens or magic or anything. But I know about signal jamming. To be totally invisible like Ward would require knowledge of exactly how your sight works. Then with, I dunno, Asgardian-level tech you could conceivably develop a countermeasure."

"What are you implying?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm saying whoever figured out how to jam your signal is an Asgardian."

"A traitor then. It's as I feared."

Heimdall turned to look out at the stars. Natasha couldn't help but follow his gaze into the blackness. She wondered what it was like, seeing everything, everywhere, surely no human mind could handle it. She reminded herself that he wasn't, in fact human and he could probably think in a far greater scope than even she could. Nick would love this guy, she thought to herself. 

She suddenly thought of Darcy, seemingly out of nowhere. That crazy stupid intern had practically jumped on a grenade for her, despite only knowing her for a few minutes. She cleared her throat, drawing Heimdall away from the truly spectacular view. She was hardly an expert on Asgardians, but to her he suddenly looked weary. She blinked and the twinkle in his eye was back, despite his calm and infuriatingly neutral face. 

"When can I see Darcy?" she asked, a little more urgently than she'd intended.

"Now, if you wish. Thor has informed your friends of your whereabouts, so you have some time. It may be suitable to find proper garments before venturing into the city."

Natasha shivered a bit, as he'd helpfully reminded her that she was standing on the edge of space wearing a little black dress.

"Yeah, that might be a good idea. I don't suppose you've got some sweats lying around?"

"Hardly. You may borrow a cloak of mine, if you wish," Heimdall said. He went to an ornate chest near the curved wall and rifled through it. He pulled out a rust-brown cloak and tossed it to Natasha. When she caught it, she felt warmer just by touching the material. It felt like velvet, but much lighter and a little bit stretchier. She tossed it around herself, and the fabric seemed to pick itself up off the floor, adjusting to her significantly smaller stature. 

"Thanks. I'll bring it back."

"You'll have to. And if you don't I'll still know where it is."

"Oh. Right," Natasha said. "Wait, why did you treat me here and not at the hospital? Or whatever you have here. Healing room."

"It is my duty to guard this realm. You are the first human of any true threat to arrive here, even wounded. It was simple enough to treat you and evaluate your intentions here rather than risk infiltration."

"So you still don't trust me, even after New York."

"Quite the contrary, after what I've seen I trust you implicitly. Odin feels differently. He has forbidden you and most Midgardians from going anywhere on Asgard but the healing room and the Bifrost here."

"Most?"

"Jane Foster is the exception to many of the All-Father's decrees. I suspect even he would have trouble keeping her from where she wished to go."

"She's got Thor that whipped, huh?"

Heimdall smiled, almost proudly. "Even without Thor, she is quite a force of personality sometimes. Wait here a moment, I've arranged transport to the healing room. When Darcy is ready to return to Midgard, come back here and we will speak further about your Hydra problem."

Even as he spoke, another carriage appeared at the door to the Bifrost. This one looked like one of those hackneys in period films rather than a gurney, except it was metal. And Asgardian-themed. And  _flying._ And there were footmen. Well, one was driving the horse. The other was a footman, and he opened the door for Natasha like you'd see in every princess movie  _ever._  The thought made her gag a little. 

"Wow. Should I be back before midnight?" she joked, mostly to herself. She looked at Heimdall. "It's from a movie, Cinder-"

"I know. I see all."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> заебись: Holy shit, more or less
> 
> ALSO: I'm looking for beta readers. PM if you've got some editing chops.


	3. Where Angels Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still on Asgard, Natasha makes an ally for the coming days. She also manages to make an idiot of herself in front of the girl she kind of likes. Twice.

Natasha wasn't sure what to expect from the healing room. It probably shouldn't have surprised her that it was basically a hospital room with a spectacular view. One of the nurses had shown her to Darcy's room and now she sat beside the bed, toying with the hem of her borrowed cloak. Darcy looked bad. She was lying on her back, which Natasha thought was odd given her injuries. It took her a moment to realize she was lying on a metal plate of some kind that looked molded to her body, with a separate plate covering some of her right shoulder. She could just make out a gentle golden light under it sweeping back and forth. Darcy's makeup was gone, revealing bruises and scrapes across the right side of her face, the path of bits of shrapnel. One gash in particular was bandaged with a small strip of metal that stretched from under her jaw to the bridge of her nose. The same healing light barely peeked out from underneath it. Her hair was singed and there were burns on her ear and neck that were coated with an ointment of some kind. They already looked better than when the two of them had been brought to Asgard, which was a welcome sign at least. Astonishingly, the nurse told her that it'd only take an hour more or so for Darcy to be able to travel. Their technology seemed impossible, but the new scar on Natasha's calf was compelling proof that it was quite real.

They had gotten lucky. The Hydra goon had taken the brunt of it, Natasha figured. They were way too close for a grenade to do anything but kill the both of them without some kind of interference. He likely wasn't able to raise his arm very high and just ended up detonating the grenade on the side of his body opposite them. Well, good riddance, she thought. He was getting glued back together in hell and here she was on freaking Asgard with Darcy. It wasn't how she expected her night to end up, but it wasn't the worst possibility. She could do without the life-threatening injuries, though. 

Which brought her back to the "why" again. Why would this young woman, barely acquainted with her, risk her life to save Natasha's? She knew it was easy to talk big. Talk about throwing yourself on the grenade, making the sacrifice play as Steve put it. It was another thing entirely to take a back full of shrapnel for someone who by all counts was still a bona fide supervillain. Darcy probably knew exactly what she'd done for the Red Room, it was all over the internet. She clearly knew who Natasha was when they met. What could have possessed her to do something so crazy for someone with a ledger like hers? Even with New York and the Sokovia debacle behind her, Natasha hardly regarded herself as redeemed, or even redeemable. 

"Ugh."

The tiny sound from the bed shook her out of her reverie.

"Hey you," Natasha said.

"Hey yourself," said Darcy. "Man, that's the last time I go drinking with you."

Natasha laughed. She couldn't help herself, this girl was just indomitable. 

"I hope not," she said. "I mean, I owe you one," she rapidly added.

"More than one I hope," said Darcy. "I'm just gonna go ahead and drop this whenever I don't feel like paying for drinks."

"Fair enough. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, peachy. Just got half of my capillaries turned to strawberry jam and my back toasted. NBD."

"Sounds like you're hungry."

"Ya think?" Darcy looked around the room. "Man, you SHIELD guys pick the nicest hospitals. Definitely shoulda joined earlier."

"We're not in a hospital. Also, what's that about joining SHIELD?"

"It's a whole thing. I'll tell you later." Darcy looked around again, this time out the window. "You sure about the not-a-hospital thing? Kinda looks like one. But, you know, shiny and chrome and OH MY GOD we're on Asgard."

Natasha laughed again. "Take it easy. How do you figure that?"

"It's like...  _exactly_ what Jane described. I'm not dead or dreaming, right? That'd be SUCH a letdown."

"Don't worry, you're awake. And yeah, we're on Asgard. Welcome, Lady Darcy," she said in her best Heimdall imitation. 

"Nerd. Hey, what's on my face?" Darcy didn't wait for a response. She peeled the metal bandage-thing off and its underside stopped glowing. Natasha silently thanked her Red Room training that kept her from grimacing. The newly-formed scar followed what must have been some shrapnel that cut deep, slanting across Darcy's cheek. Even with Asgardian healing things, Natasha thought that might be permanent. 

"That bad, huh?"

"What?"

"I bet I look like hell. Kinda feel like it," Darcy said.

"No," Natasha lied. "You look heroic."

"Yeah. Chicks dig scars, right?" 

"I do," Natasha said, and immediately felt like kicking herself. Smooth, Nat. "I mean, I've got plenty myself. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"Heh, yeah that's me. Badass warrior lady."

"Damn right."

Natasha cautiously grasped her hand. She wasn't very good at this, comforting civilians. Between New Mexico and that thing in London, she figured Darcy had seen a lot, but it was apparent that she'd never been truly hurt. Of all the times for Steve to be literally worlds away, she thought. Or at least she did, until Darcy started squeezing back, gently.

"You've certainly earned such a title," said a voice from the door. Natasha turned to see a tall woman standing just inside the room, looking every bit the aforementioned badass warrior lady. Natasha was surprised she hadn't heard the door slide open. A muffled "ow" from the bed indicated that Darcy had tried to look too. 

"My apologies," the woman continued. Her hands were fidgety. "I do not mean to intrude, but I... wished to check on Lady Darcy."

"Whozat?"

"It's Lady Sif. We met once, on the battlefield." 

Natasha relaxed. Thor talked about Sif often, so she figured it was safe. It was clear Darcy managed to make friends wherever she went, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Sif wasn't just here to check on her. She got up, letting go of Darcy's hand and took a glass of water to the enormous open window. 

"I'll let you have a turn," she said to Sif.

"Ah- very well," Sif said. She sat down in the chair by the bed, a little awkwardly. 

"Oh hey, I remember you!" said Darcy cheerfully. "You stabbed that thing a bunch that one time. How's it going?"

"It... goes well, thank you. Heimdall told me what happened, are you mending?"

"Yup! Kickass healing stuff you guys got here."

"It's true," Natasha said. "One of the nurses said it'd be a little more than an hour and you're good to go."

"Oh, baller," said Darcy. "Hey, since we're on Asgard do we call them nurses or norses?"

Sif looked befuddled and Natasha practically spat out her drink.

"I do not understand."

"No worries," said Darcy. "Midgard thing, I guess. Hey Agent Romanov, if I get you to do a spit-take will you buy me another drink?"

"I think we're past 'Agent' at this point."

"Oh! Cool beans, Nat."

Natasha tried very hard not to smile. Even torn to bits and roasted to a crisp, Darcy still seemed unbreakable. While she chatted at Sif, Natasha wondered how much of her cheer was just show. It seemed a to get a little heavy before Sif arrived, but now she seemed to be looking at the bright side of everything. Maybe that was how they got here in the first place, she saw Natasha's silver lining. Well that was different. Where Fury saw an asset, Steve saw somebody he could save with that big fucking hero complex and Bruce saw a fellow monster, Darcy saw a real person. It was a bit of a cognitive leap, a premature theory, but Natasha had the feeling that  _that_ was why she was drawn to her all of a sudden.

"Agent, may I speak with you?" Sif said abruptly.

"Sure. Get some rest, Darcy."

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, bring me some food!" Darcy called after them as they went to the hallway and closed the door. 

"She is quite resilient," Sif said after a moment.

"I'll say. What's this about? You didn't come up here to see Darcy."

"No, and I apologize for my deceit. I have no art for it, it seems." Sif leaned in conspiratorially. "I have just spoken with Heimdall. He's told me of the troubles on your world and of what troubles the All-Father."

"About Hydra?"

"The organization, yes. The beast is another matter, we shall speak on it later." Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Heimdall tells me that you two believe there is a traitor in the court of Asgard connected to your Hydra. Odin himself has commanded me to draw him out but..."

"You have no art for deceit-"

"Exactly. Thor has told me of your exploits and I know he believes you to be trustworthy. Can you help me?"

"You want me to flush out a mole?"

"I... wish to expose a traitor..."

"Yeah, that. Well I don't exactly know how this place works, I just got here. Also, nice to know my reputation as a deceiver precedes me."

"I meant no offense..."

"I know. None taken. Look," Natasha said, pulling Sif in a bit closer. "Until I have more information I can't work here. If we want to figure out what's rotten up here, we have to look at what's happened down there." She motioned vaguely toward the Bifrost. 

"Midgard?"

"Yes, Midgard. If someone is signal jamming Heimdall from down there, that's where we need to start. First we figure out how it's being done, then-"

Three nurses walked by, making small curtsies to Lady Sif before entering Darcy's room. Natasha waited for the automatic door to close before continuing.

"Then we'll have a better idea of who is even capable of messing with him besides Loki."

"So you must return home."

"Right. The trick is, the people we're hunting are way better equipped than we thought."

Natasha paused for a moment. Having someone like Sif around could be useful. She didn't draw as much attention as Thor, and if Heimdall trusted her with such sensitive intel she was definitely on the right side. Coulson had worked with her before briefly and she was apparently one hell of an asset in a fight. She wasn't exactly subtle, but if SHIELD ever needed another heavy hitter it was now. 

"How much do you know about the court here?" Natasha asked.

"I am acquainted with major and minor nobles of all houses, at the very least. 'Twas why Odin asked my help in discovering the traitor."

"And how familiar are you with... uh, artifice?"

"Capable enough, though I confess this Hydra's capabilities confound me. I know many of Asgard's finest craftsmen and women, though."

"Perfect. You're coming with me."

Sif blinked. "I am?"

"Yup. Pack light, meet me back here in an hour."

"Wh-"

"Anything terribly pressing you need to do up here?"

"Well no-"

"Great. I'm going to check on Darcy. And Sif?"

"Yes?"

"Keep this quiet. If anyone asks, tell them you're going to visit Coulson or something."

"I... will be discreet. Thank you, Agent Romanov," said Sif. She accented the "a" in Romanov. She then turned on her heel and strode purposefully down the hallway, looking even more like a woman on a mission than before. Natasha rolled her eyes. Clearly there was some work to do with her, but she'd figure something out. At least now she had something resembling a plan. 

Even here, on an alien planet, in a palace that looked like a pipe organ, the namesake of a realm that wasn't supposed to exist, Natasha suddenly felt back in her own world. As an Avenger, she was good when alien or robot armies started falling out of the sky. But as a spy, conducting a mole hunt with international- no, interstellar danger involved, this was where she thrived. While the idea of Asgardian tech in Hydra's hands made her skin crawl, she knew she could do this. All she needed was the right people.

But that could wait until they got back to Earth. Right now she had Darcy to take care of, who Natasha had to keep reminding herself was just her job. Just a VIP. And that was fine. 

Distracted as she was by reminding herself, she forgot to knock. And she walked into the healing room to an eyeful of Darcy. She was standing and being examined by the nurses. The plates covering her back and right shoulder had been removed to show clean, unburnt skin crisscrossed by thin shrapnel scars. She was also, as Natasha noticed immediately, completely naked. 

"Uh," she said.

"My Lady," one of the nurses said.

"NAT!" Darcy yelped, turning to see Natasha standing inside the doorway.

"Uh," Natasha said again. Nope, turning definitely didn't help.

"What the HELL?"

"Oh. OH. SORRY! Sorry!" she sputtered and turned to leave. The way her day was going, Natasha should have figured she would immediately slam face-first into the now closed automatic door.

Which she did.

She spouted a string of curses in Russian and waved at what she assumed was the sensor to open the door again. Mercifully it did and she practically ran into the hallway still muttering obscenities. Super smooth, she thought again. You're a real heartthrob. She waited outside the healing room for a minute or two to calm down and stop berating herself. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to her. She didn't care what most people thought of her. Most of the time. Every time she did care what someone thought, friends or family or whatever, she endlessly cursed herself for the slightest misstep in front of them. It was maddening, this kind of sensitivity. It had only manifested after her deprogramming, which made sense. The upside was that she could count the number of people who affected her on one hand. Clint and Laura were first, then Fury, then Hill, now Rodgers and...

Natasha counted on her fingers, unnecessarily. Well, so much for the one hand, she thought. And all in a few minutes. That was just impressive. Now, however, she had a problem. She needed to get some Darcy points back after that little display, and she knew exactly how to do it. 

Ten minutes later, Natasha cautiously knocked on the healing room door. One of the nurses (norses? She couldn't help but think) opened it and waved her in. Darcy sat near the window, looking positively radiant for someone who took a grenade in the back not two hours ago. She was wearing a sky blue Asgardian dress and was looking at her new facial scar in a hand mirror. 

"Uh, hi," Natasha said. Good start. Use your words, Nat.

"Hey," Darcy said distractedly. Natasha walked over to the window, slowly, and sat down next to her. 

"Sorry about that thing earlier," she said.

"S'fine. I think we're definitely past 'Agent' now."

"Heh. Looks like it."

Her walls were up. Natasha had put up enough barriers herself to know what it looked like. Darcy just did it with humor rather than coldness. Well that just wouldn't do.

"I brought something for you," Natasha said, snatching the hand mirror. "Volstagg, come on in!"

At her word, the portly warrior barged in the door pushing nothing less than a banquet on wheels. The table was so big it looked almost like he'd commandeered one of the horse-drawn gurneys and packed it with plates upon plates of delicious-looking food.

"Lady Darcy!" he bellowed happily. "Welcome to Asgard! Madam Widow here tells me you've never had a proper feast and I am  _loathe_ to let such an honored guest go hungry!"

Darcy looked at Natasha, then at the table. The look of her eyes bulging at the sight of it was something Natasha decided to treasure. Volstagg began giving them a tour of the delicacies that undoubtedly came straight out of the ovens.

"Look here, we've a whole suckling pig with my very favorite stuffing, quail, pheasant, ribs-of-boar, smoked sausage and some venison for meats. A bowl- well, more a bucket really- of any fruit you can imagine, grilled veggies aplenty for health if you so wish, a whole vine full of grapes, two wheels of cheese and some wine-"

"-What-" managed Darcy.

"-to start!" continued Volstagg. "I left the rest in the kitchen if you're still hungry after this- oh! I nearly forgot the ale! There's a few casks in the hallway, let me fetch them." He trundled out of the room and returned with a barrel under each arm. He heaved one onto a stand he'd brought in and tapped it without wasting a moment or a drop. Darcy was still dumbstruck, so Natasha grabbed an apple-looking thing and handed it to her.

"Eat up, we've got to head back soon," she said, fighting to keep a smile off her face and losing.

"I kinda love you right now," Darcy said. 

"I know. Now eat."

And so they did. The next hour passed without any of them noticing. They ate, drank, laughed, told stories and smashed mugs on the floor, which was a new experience for Natasha. Darcy was quieter than she would have expected but she was comfortable and noticeably happier than before. Volstagg listened with bated breath and Darcy with wide eyes as Natasha told them about Ultron and his machine army. It seemed the Asgardian custom to embellish a little, so she told of how she rode the Hulk himself into glorious battle, hacking up Ultron's minions left and right with her electric swords. Volstagg told a tale of a bilgesnipe hunt in which he and Hogun found themselves stranded on Jotunheim surrounded by frost giants and tricked them into a drinking contest. Darcy told a story about how this one time in college she accidentally ate three ginormous pot brownies and spent like five hours discovering the meaning of life.

It was a good way to kill some time, Natasha decided. 

When Sif finally returned to the healing room, Darcy and Natasha were nursing some serious food-babies and Volstagg was eagerly starting in on the second ale barrel. 

"Sif! How wonderful!" he shouted "Have you come to join us?"

"I... er..." Sif looked at Natasha, who gave a subtle nod and indicated "a little" with her hand.

"Er... yes! For a bit, anyway. I've come to... escort our guests back to Midgard, as soon as they are able."

"Well then have a drink!" Volstagg said, expertly tossing her a full mug of ale. Natasha made a mental note to learn that trick.

Sif joined them for a few minutes and told a story about a battle at sea that was so crowded with ships that she fought -on foot- from one side of the ocean to the other without getting a drop of seawater in her hair. Once Darcy and Natasha could stand, they bid their farewells to Volstagg and thanked the norses (Natasha had started calling them that at some point) for their hard work. They arrived back at the Bifrost by carriage, where Sif picked up her luggage and Natasha reluctantly returned Heimdall's cloak.

"You know," said Darcy as they prepared to leave. "I really hope those come back into style."

"Why's that?" said Natasha.

"I dunno, they just look easy to make. And you did say it was super warm."

"No other reason?" said Sif with a crooked grin. "Perhaps you think Agent Romanov quite comely in one."

"What? No. I mean, Nat makes anything look good. Cloaks included."

Natasha glared at Sif and took Heimdall aside for a moment. 

"Before you ask," he said, "No you may not bring my cloak to Midgard," 

"No, that wasn't- ugh," Natasha grunted. "You said had something else about Hydra."

"Only this: be as discreet as you can. Few, if any of your other agents should know of this crisis. With our artifice, it's possible Hydra is now more capable of extracting information than ever, and this investigation must be of the utmost secrecy."

"I figured as much," Natasha said. "No objections to bringing Sif along?"

"I rather hoped you would. This may be an opportunity to build more permanent relations between worlds, as I see it."

Natasha nodded. "Good move. Save two worlds, cement an alliance."

"Indeed. I'd hate for that door to slam in my face, as it were."

"You- frrgh-  _Жопа_. Shut up."

Heimdall simply grinned as he made his way to the pedestal and started up the bridge-cannon-thing. The walls began spinning and lightning in the shape of a tree erupted from the sword.

"Good luck, my friends," he said, surprisingly audible over the noise. Natasha felt Darcy grab her elbow. "Where shall I leave you?"

"Outside Coulson's plane," Natasha said. "Assuming it's on the ground."

"Very well. I'll be watching."

Heimdall plunged the sword into the pedestal and Natasha felt herself yanked forward into the swirling vortex of light. It felt different this time, more like floating instead of falling, which was weird since they were sort of going down. Kind of. She'd have to ask Jane about that. 

When they landed, or stopped, or whatever Natasha was surprised to be nearly blinded by sunlight. She heard a chorus of "whoa!" and "what the-" from Coulson's team and his flight crew. She looked around and got her bearings. Sure enough, Heimdall had landed them right on the tarmac behind the New Bus, as Johnson called it. Crew members and agents were staring at them from the cargo ramp. From behind them, Coulson made his way down the ramp and stood at the edge of the newly-scorched pavement. 

"Agent," he said, nodding at Natasha.

"Director," she replied.

"Your Ladyship," he said to Sif.

"Son of Coul."

"Darcyyy," mumbled Darcy.

"Foster and Selvig?" asked Natasha.

"On board. They're waiting for you, Miss Lewis."

"Oh, score. Catch you guys later?"

"I'll be on in a bit," said Natasha. She turned to Coulson. "But first, I'd like to speak to Agent Johnson."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Жопа: Asshole


	4. A Trio of Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha recruits the final member of her team and Darcy teaches her the true meaning of friendship. Cuddles. Cuddles are the true meaning of friendship.

Agent Johnson, Daisy, sat on a luggage cart with her arms crossed and tapped her finger against her sleeve. After reading Johnson's file, Natasha had expected this. She stood patiently between Daisy, a high-value SHIELD agent and exceptionally powerful inhuman and Sif, a fully armed and armored Asgardian warrior of legend. She felt like a mom scolding her kids. 

"Sif, do you have something to say?" Natasha said.

Sif grumbled.

"Louder."

"I'm sorry I tried to kidnap you."

"And?"

"And I'm sorry I called you a weapon. I underestimated you."

Daisy looked smug. No, not smug, just the right combination of satisfied and a little bit starstruck. She stood up and offered a hand to Sif.

"Well I think that covers it. You are... uh... absolved, O Lady Sif," Daisy said. They shook hands. Finally.

"Thank you, Skye," said Sif, genuinely relieved. "I wish we could have spoken after you shot yourself."

Natasha's eyes bulged. 

"What?!"

"Whoa, not like that," Daisy said. "It was an ICER. Dendrotoxin, non-lethal."

"I know what an ICER is," said Natasha. "Your file said 'incapacitated.' Did you seriously ice yourself?"

"Yup."

"How'd it feel?"

"Like getting shot with regular bullets. But less... permanent."

Natasha cringed. "All right. Now that that's settled, let's talk business."

"Yeah, about that," said Daisy. "What exactly is this? I mean, not that I'm not fascinated and grateful and kind of freaking out in my head right now that you two are even giving me the time of day, but this seems a little... clandestine. Like, even for SHIELD." Daisy motioned to where they were, a private cargo room near the tarmac that Natasha had already swept for bugs.

"This isn't a SHIELD op," said Natasha. "But it does concern SHIELD. We need a contact within easy reach of Coulson and you're the best he has right now."

"She does you much honor, and I'm inclined to agree," said Sif.

"So it's, what, an Avengers thing?" asked Daisy.

Natasha smirked a bit. "If it makes you feel better, yeah."

"Does this make me an Avenger?"

"No."

"Aw."

Sif rolled her eyes. "Be honored, young Skye. This quest was given to us by the highest authority in all the realms. If Agent Romanov has seen fit to trust you with its machinations, you are more an asset than your Avengers."

Daisy raised her eyebrows. "Okay, first it's Daisy. Second, we're on a  _quest?_ Third, who is this mission for if not the Avengers?"

"That's what I'm trying to get to," said Natasha. "This mission comes from Asgard, so... yeah, I guess it's a quest."

Natasha paused for a moment.  _Nerd,_  Darcy would say.

"I'm not going to lie to you," she continued. "This might get messy. We'll be going after Hydra from a way different angle than Coulson. I know how you must feel about keeping secrets from your team, but you might have to if you're in."

Daisy sat back and appeared to mull it over as Natasha took a seat on a case nearby. She was optimistic. Daisy was smart, loyal, and had every reason in the world to watch Grant Ward bleed out on the floor. The fact that she could hack her way into a NORAD missile base, drunk, with a laptop was a nice bonus too. Oh, and she could reduce any standing structure in the world to a pile of rubble if she needed to. That was nice to know. 

"All right. I'm in."

Sif beamed. Natasha smirked again. "Great."

"On one condition."

"And that is?"

"I tell Coulson I'm working with you. No more behind-the-back bullshit, we all know who's playing for what team."

"Deal," said Natasha. "But nothing beyond that. I think between the three of us, he can be sure we're not working for Hydra."

"Then we're agreed?" said Sif. She stood, and for some reason Natasha felt compelled to do the same. "We three shall uphold Odin's command, hunt down our common enemies wheresoever they dwell, and bring Grant of House Ward to face justice."

"Can I just shoot him?"

"Or Agent Johnson can simply shoot him, whichever works."

Somehow, they had all ended up standing in a circle.

"Uh... yeah. We're agreed," Natasha said. "Go team."

It'd have to do.

 

* * *

 

The three of them boarded the New Bus, with only a few glances thrown their way. While Daisy talked with Coulson, Sif and Natasha settled into their bunks, temporarily assigned by a babbling Dr. Simmons. She was adorable, Natasha thought with a kind of pity. Daisy mentioned she'd had some trouble with an 084 lately, which Natasha mentally filed away for later. 

For now she had an actual plan, the first step of which was finding out just how long she and Darcy were gone. Natasha was annoyed that nobody had thought to figure this out before, but there was definitely some difference between how time moved on Asgard and how it moved on Midgard. Earth. With some math and some guesswork, she concluded that they left Stockholm at about 2100, stayed on Asgard for two hours, then landed back on Earth just before 1100 the next day. She'd have to talk it over with Jane, but by her watch that meant time moved almost seven times faster for her than it did for Heimdall. Natasha made another mental note to ask him how the hell something like this gets overlooked. She took a moment before remembering that his idea of space and time was probably a bit... different from hers.

Natasha closed her bunk door and sat down on the bed, suddenly feeling the tiring effects of the time dilation. Even concussed and with an impending food coma from Volstagg's feast, she knew she had work to do. Check on her VIP. Yeah, that's right. Her mission. She grunted with satisfaction as she peeled off her dress and  _finally_ changed into some more sensible clothes. Her luggage was being retrieved from the hotel, so she made do with a borrowed SHIELD t-shirt and a pair of workout pants. She took off her makeup in the surprisingly spacious lavatory and went to find Darcy. 

The common area was smaller than on the old Bus. Coulson never knew it, but Natasha had been on his plane once or twice when Fury ran things. There were a lot more bunks, presumably for their new Welcome Wagon directive, and it smelled just a little... fresh. Like a new car, but with more antifreeze sprayed on the outside. She rounded a corner and narrowly dodged Dr. Selvig, who was nose-deep in a tablet and muttering about neutrinos in Swedish. He looked up and took a moment to register who he'd nearly bumped into, as well as his surroundings.

"Oh... er... Agent Romanov," he managed to sputter out. "I didn't get the chance to thank you last night..."

"It's no trouble," she said. "You were a little preoccupied with your first firefight."

"Second, actually."

"Right, New Mexico." She hadn't forgotten. It helped to remind people that she was human, though. "Not a lot of gunplay there, if I read the reports right."

"No, but come to think of it there was a lot more actual fire."

"True enough. How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, Jane too. It was Darcy we were worried about, Thor told us what happened."

"Well I'm sure he made it sound very heroic."

"Ah, he did actually. Something about hurling herself into the inferno."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Is he around?"

"No, he went somewhere called the... farm? I think. Ask Jane."

"I will. Where is she?"

"Grilling Darcy about time dilation. I keep telling her that distortion of that magnitude is-"

"-Doctor."

"Sorry. Over there by the couches."

"Thanks. I'll leave you to... uh," she motioned at the tablet. "...science."

So Darcy had noticed it too. Natasha tried to hide a smile as she was reminded how sharp she really was. Selvig returned to his neutrinos and Natasha poked her head around the corner he'd indicated.

"Nat!" came a familiar voice from the couches. Darcy waved her over, practically bouncing in her seat. "Jane's going all sciencey again. Please help."

She was smiling brightly despite the weariness in her eyes. Dr. Foster, Jane, was holding something that looked like a toaster and waving it around Darcy's personal space.

"Nat?" she said. Jane's eyes refocused as her brain changed gears. "Oh! Agent Romanov! Hi! Hi. Can you hold really still for a second?"

"What?"

"That's perfect, right there." She started waving the toaster around Natasha. "Incredible! I can't believe I didn't notice it but it looks like-"

"Time moves faster here," Natasha and Darcy said simultaneously. Jane pouted a little.

"In layman's terms, yes," she said a little haughtily.

"Thanks for the update," said Natasha. "Where's Thor?"

"Flown off to do some investigating," Jane looked a little dreamy.  _Dreamy._ Natasha rolled her eyes again.

"Did he say where?"

"Somewhere called the farm. Do you think he meant Hawkeye's secret thing?"

"Thor did what with Hawkeye's secret thing?" said Darcy from the couch.

Natasha rubbed her eyes. "Safehouse. Thor's not big on secrets, is he?"

"Not really, no," said Jane.

"You have no idea," said Darcy. "I don't think they have TMI on Asgard."

Well that complicated things. Natasha had been planning on telling Thor about her investigation, but if he couldn't keep a safehouse of that caliber secret she'd have to reconsider. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that bringing him in on a mission this delicate was a bit like doing eye surgery with a battering ram. She was taking a big enough risk with Sif, the last thing she needed was Thor shouting from rooftops that he was hunting Grant Ward's Asgardian buddy. It might be more useful for him to chase his tail in the corner and draw some attention away from her little task force. Natasha filed that away for later and brought herself back to the Bus.

"I'm not surprised. Dr. Foster, can you give us a minute?"

"Sure," Jane said. She kept diddling with the toaster.

"Jane!" said Darcy forcefully.

"What?"

Darcy jerked her head towards anywhere that wasn't the couches. Jane stared blankly for a second. For someone so smart, she could be just as thick as her boyfriend sometimes. 

"Oh. OH, riiiiight," Jane said finally. She did something with her face that looked like it was supposed to be a wink and scampered off. 

Natasha slumped onto the couch next to Darcy. She noticed Darcy was pursing her lips a little and fidgeting with a bracelet she'd been wearing since the gala. 

"You okay?" Natasha finally asked.

"Fine, I think," Darcy said distantly.

"You took a huge hit. It's okay to be... not fine."

"I know. I think it's just hitting me how close I was to..." Ah. There it is. A tear formed at the edge of Darcy's eye and she sniffled a little.

"I mean," Darcy continued, "The last thing I told my mom was not to forget she had a chicken in the oven. What kind of last words are those?"

Natasha was at a loss again. She was a lot better at inflicting this on people. What would Steve say?

"Honest ones," she said hopefully. "But what's important is that now you get to call her and ask how the chicken was."

"Amazing, probably. She makes the best food. 100% kosher, too."

"Better than the stuff Volstagg brought us?"

"Way better."

"I bet you don't get to smash your mugs on the floor, though."

"Only if Uncle Rob is there."

Somehow, Darcy had crept closer. Natasha's arm had been outstretched on the back of the sofa and Darcy settled into it comfortably. She laid her head on Natasha's shoulder, completely oblivious to the maelstrom of conflicting thoughts rattling around in Natasha's head. She was too close. She smelled so good, even after all that. Her left arm was perfectly positioned for a stab in the kidney. Her hair was so soft. She was a VIP, a mission. She was vulnerable, even more than she was with Jane.

She was snoring.

Gently, but she was definitely snoring. Natasha, in an entirely unprecedented train of thought, wanted to join her. This was nice. The whole cuddling thing was way better than she'd anticipated. She'd never really done it before, in all honesty. And really, it was like 0200 for her at this point, what with the time dilation. There wasn't any harm in having a quick kip on the sofa before getting to work. They were just waiting to take off at this point anyway. Natasha settled a little deeper into the couch. Her eyes dropped a little lower and she felt the noises of the Bus slowly fading. Darcy's hair really did smell good. Like flowers and lavender and mountain air just before it snows. This was really nice. 

She lay her head back on the sofa and breathed deeply. As was her custom, she gave the room one last look before shutting her eyes. She immediately wished she hadn't. That, or she was immensely glad she did. She couldn't decide right now. 

Phil Fucking Coulson had just walked around the corner. He looked at them curled up on the couch and his eyes widened just a little. Natasha felt like a deer in headlights. She was trapped with Darcy sleeping on her shoulder and _goddamnit_ Coulson was taking out his phone. Natasha frantically waved at him to stop with her free hand. She couldn't bring herself to disturb Darcy.

_Don't you fucking dare,_ she mouthed at him furiously. 

_What?_ he mouthed back, shrugging. He calmly opened his camera app and took a picture. All Natasha could do was flip him a middle finger. Coulson put his phone away and switched to ASL.

_Your luggage is here. We're taking off in 10,_ he signed.

Natasha brought her four fingers to her lips, then moved them away.  _Thanks._  She turned the back of her hand to him and lightly flicked her chin with her ring finger.  _Jerk._  

 


End file.
